


Spooning

by StrangeBlueGlow (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/StrangeBlueGlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam hated to admit it, but sometimes missed the spooning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spooning

Sam hated to admit it, but sometimes missed the spooning.

From what he understood of Hell, the point of it was to strip you of your humanity until you didn't remember it anymore and all you were was twisted blackness. But Sam wasn't in Hell, he was in The Cage. The Cage was different. 

Some days, Sam just cowered in a corner waiting for the the next horrific thing to happen. Other days, he had to watch his worst nightmares play out in front of him and his most terrible moments replay over and over again. It was a rare occasion that he was strung up like meat and tortured the flesh and blood way.

He was ripped apart and torn to ribbons by Lucifer and Michael alike. Sometimes it was even the both of them if they could stop tearing at each other for long enough to focus on Sam.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

When Sam couldn't take anymore, Lucifer would take him down from the meathooks that dug into his flesh and carry him away, placing him on a bed, cold and lumpy, too firm and too soft at the same time, sort of a compelation of every crappy motel bed Sam had ever slept on, but a welcome comfort none the less. The Devil would sit next to him on the bed and look at Sam sadly. 

"I could heal you." Lucifer said as a statement but meant as a question.

Sam wanted to be strong, wanted to curl up onto himself and say "No" or leave Lucifer without an answer as he felt his body knit itself back together, in more pain that he was when it was taken apart. 

Sometimes he was.

Most of the time he wasn't.

"Please." Sam would choke out, hating himeself and how desperate his voice sounded.

The fallen angel who too often had been the one to rip him apart would heal Sam with feather light touches, taking the pain away as best he could. Then he would lean in and press his lips softly against Sam's.

More often than not, Sam would kiss back.

He never once said yes to Lucifer in The Cage. But that mattered little when he opened his mouth to let The Devil's tongue explore it or spread his legs wantonly as Lucifer settled between them.

Sam would say no some nights, pushing the angel away. And Lucifer would stop at the word, backing off as far as Sam would let him or disappearing completely for the night.

Lucifer never took anything Sam didn't offer freely, and that was what Sam hated most.

If Lucifer had ever forced him, if Sam had once found himself afraid in those quiet moments, he could have told himself it was all a sham, a way to keep himself safe and have a moment of respite. 

But it wasn't. 

Lucifer owned Sam completely.

And as Lucifer trailed kisses along Sam's jaw, turning him so they were chest to back and wrapping his arms around him possessively, murmuring sweet nothings against Sam's neck, they both knew it. 

Laying in an empty motel bed in the real world, Sam hated himself, but he missed the feeling of belonging to someone like that. Sam missed the spooning.


End file.
